Dereliction
by Shadowmistress13
Summary: The violent murder of Queen Zelda devastates Hyrule; terrorizing its citizens and bringing its Hero to despair. But is Zelda dead? Post TP Zelink Rated T for Blood and Language
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Zelda, but have recently fallen head over heels in love with it. And as I've been suffering a crippling blast of _**Writer's Block**_ (echo echo echo thunderclap) lately, the moment I got a whiff of creativity, I pounced on it. Even though…well…this genre isn't one of my usual haunts…

Well…here goes and I hope you enjoy! Any and all feedback/criticism is always welcome! ^-^

**Chapter 1: Composure**

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><p>Zelda sighed from her perch by the window. She turned her crown over in her hands, fingers tracing the jewels absently.<p>

Her coronation several months ago promoted her title from Princess to Queen; her council was still rather bitter about it—constantly remarking how queer it was—the arrogance of taking such a title when she had no king beside her.

Well they could grumble all they liked; she was now _**officially**_ ranked as the land's ruler…

Yet she continued feeling powerless…

Her nation had been devastated since Ganondorf's invasion, and rebuilding Hyrule proved difficult.

Sweeping debris and reconstructing buildings was a long tedious affair; and even then the wreckage was easier to deal with than her subjects.

Bolstering the people's spirits was decidedly more challenging—no amount of public announcements declaring reassurance helped.

They'd lived a nightmare…and the fear lingered…

Worse still, everything always seemed to come back to Link.

Poor man just couldn't escape.

First he'd had to literally save their world, and now the people demanded he rebuild it as well.

She'd wanted nothing more than to release Link back to his life.

It'd been clear at the two celebrations he'd attended with her, that he disliked the limelight of a champion's fame…

He was a Hero in deeds, but a Goat Herder at heart…quiet fields and quaint country living was far superior to pompous galas with snobby company.

Yet…whenever she requested his presence, he came—dropping his life at once to come to her aid.

Something that simultaneously pleased and shamed her…that she should take secret delight in his often immediate responses…

She was his Queen…it was natural that he should come…for Hyrule.

Patriotism…nothing more…a faithful hero of their land…

Well now was her opportunity to pay back at least a bit of her gratitude:

A Knighthood.

She'd insisted it since Ganondorf's defeat but he'd always shrug it off. That he had no need for such grandeur—anyone in his place would have done the same…

He'd finally relented a few weeks back—agreeing that a knight's status would give him more clout with her guards, whom he felt were incompetent (which she privately agreed more or often than not).

A title would allow him the power to voice his complaints officially to the council. (They'd been more than content to swat down any suggestions Link made to their training and guard rotations. They would scoff about the commoner's arrogance; never mind the fact that he'd saved the realm—oftentimes using the guards' ineptitude to his advantage.)

Regardless, she was pleased for his change of heart: It would allow her to grant him more advantages and bestow honor to his village.

Now there would be numerous prospects for the orphaned goatherder. Now he'd have prestige as well as glory to his name. He would live well, could marry well, and live happily…

She's already heard rumor that Ordon wanted to make him the Chief of their village.

A Knight's title would serve him well in trade's negotiations with neighboring towns.

Yes…he had a bright future ahead of him.

Glancing through the window she spied her hero in the gardens surrounded by his friends.

He'd arrived early to their designated meeting place.

She would bring a small contingent of guards (for propriety's sake) they would once again go over the schedule of the parade and ceremony (which knee to kneel on and so forth).

And then the event would begin…hopefully raising the people's mood with festivity and joy where reason and reassurance had failed.

Dressed in the Hero's green garb, he looked like a dashing champion of childhood fairytales.

The crowd would appreciate the sight: him kneeling before their Queen would appeal to their romanticized sentimentalities.

She watched his ring of companions closely.

One in particular caught her eye, a honey haired girl who kept leaning close to him.

Illia…

He'd spoken enough about the girl that Zelda could guess that was her.

She pursed her lips-Watching the two of them laughing together…

Friends since childhood…

So easy in each other's company…

The young woman flushed at something Link said, smiling bashfully.

Violet eyes narrowed at the sight…

Such a carefree smile and soft features, it was no wonder Link adored her so; an inviting presence for his war-torn soul…

They'd be happy…that girl could make him happy with her light-hearted spirit.

Zelda would never have that….That sort of all-encompassing warmth…a '_**lady's touch'**_ or so she'd heard her soldiers lament it…

Zelda sighed…her own presence was…intimidating to say the least.

She could silence people with a look.

With a toss of her head, she could speak volumes of disdain.

With a word of contempt, she could reduce nobles to their knees and commoners to tears.

She didn't have the necessary '_**touch'**_ to heal wounds of the heart.

_**Proud**_, some said, _**aloof**_ said others, _**formidable**_…they all agreed—whispered as she passed through halls and ballrooms.

But she was always fair. Fair as only the ruthlessly righteous could be.

Wise. Honorable. Cold.

There was no softness to recommend her and that lack of feminine essence had earned her the title of Queen.

Zelda the Ruler elicited no ardent feelings, only respect.

Just the way she needed it to be, the only way a lady could be taken seriously in such a powerful position.

Though in the far corner of her mind, she mourned for Zelda the Woman—a budding flower that died before ever blooming.

Sacrifices…they all made sacrifices…

In a few hours she'd be greeting him as _**Sir**_ Link.

At last doing what she could to improve his station of life before he disappeared back into obscurity…

It was only fair…

She swallowed down the bitter feeling poisoning her breast: A longing that she had no right to feel, a longing that would only spoil their newly growing friendship; acting on such a selfish feeling would only complicate matters for both of them.

For a moment she silently cursed her predecessors, almost entirely convinced that this sudden passion had sprung from their collective sorrow and repressed emotion, and that the ache in her chest was artificial; remnants of a tattered fabric knotted by the Goddesses out of amusement and spite.

She watched a few more of his friends circle him, each ruffling his hair or thumping him on the back.

They laughed so easily with one another—their good cheer abundant…

In a few more hours he'd be free to pursue his happiness…

The honey haired girl spun twirled around, showing off her light yellow dress…

The others applauded her and she gave a clumsy curtsy.

Zelda made a silent prayer to the Goddesses, wishing him luck in all his endeavors.

She placed the heavy crown over her brow and stood.

* * *

><p>Link sighed, stretching the taut muscles in his neck. Every tendon and sinew was ready to spring into action; as if certain there were an enemy just beyond his sight—eager to catch him unawares.<p>

Was it bizarre? That he was more nervous waiting for his knighting than he'd ever been on his quest?

Illia straightened his collar for what seemed the hundredth time—muttering that he was about to "rub elbows with _**royalty**_ for goodness sake" could he stop rumpling his shirt!

Queen Zelda…he thought… immediately feeling a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the sunshine bearing down on them.

He was so grateful to her for everything.

She was so…practical.

The way she took charge after Ganondorf's defeat had been inspiring.

In no time at all, she'd begun restoring her kingdom; purging her lands of the darkness and healing the hearts of her people.

And in spite of so many important tasks swallowing every minute of her day, she somehow found time for him; helping him readjust to life without Midna. The Twilight Princess had literally been his shadow—he'd been so accustomed to her company that he'd often wait for commentary…only for the silence to remind him of her now permanent absence.

Through it all Queen Zelda had been a constant pillar of support through his grief; with soft words of encouragement to buoy him in times of dire loneliness.

She often prompted him to speak—that it would lighten his heart…but he'd never been much of talker.

So she'd invite him along for tasks, letting her company console him. The irony of him now being _**her**_ shadow wasn't wasted on him.

Sometimes they'd be in meetings with smithies and carpenters…

Sometimes they'd be listening to villagers' complaints…

Other times they'd be filling out paperwork…well _**she'd**_ be filling out paperwork, he'd be stacking her documents neatly or tying scrolls with cord.

They'd also started a tradition of reading in the library every other day. Not a pastime he would have imagined for himself…Not to say he didn't mind a good book now and then, but he was more a man of action than a scholar.

But…

Sitting with her at a table, so close their elbows touched every time she moved to turn a page…

He wouldn't trade those moments for anything…

Nor would he have ever guessed she was so particular towards poetry…

Or that he'd become just as fond of it, if only to hear her sweet voice murmur the lines with such passion.

And perhaps it was a bit pitiful of him…But he rather liked it when she read romantic ballads…

The hushed way she'd say "love" and "darling" as though they were the most sacred words in existence…

Thankfully she'd always be so engrossed in her reading; she never noticed the way he flushed to the very tips of his ears.

She was just…comforting…like lilting chords on a harp or a cool gentle breeze…

And when she smiled at him…_**really**_ smiled at him…not the '_I'm-your-benevolent-ruler'_ obligated pleasant expression, but the '_I'm-glad-to-see-you-Link'_ smile…

His lips quirked…well…in those times he couldn't help but marvel how Beautiful and Graceful and Wise and Beautiful and Composed and Patient and Beautiful and Beautiful she was.

He'd wondered at first if he'd been substituting the company of one princess for another—but comparing them…well, it was like the sun and the moon.

Fiery Midna whose biting sarcasm lent her a certain charm even while it charred one's senses was in a category all her own; Goddesses he missed that ill-tempered imp.

She could never be replaced and that reality had led him to a rather undignified outburst.

In a fit of self-wallowing anger he'd gone to the castle's training grounds and literally knocked the stuffing out of a practice dummy. Releasing pent up frustration that one of his dearest friends was now suddenly gone forever and without so much as a real farewell.

_Sand poured from the dummy. Viciously, he raised his sword for a final attack, when slender fingers rested on his shoulder; the grip surprisingly strong._

"_Hero" the Queen commanded "Do not be a blade raised in anger, a rod for destruction to strike through. You are too great to be defeated by so petty a thing as wrath."_

"_She left" he gritted his teeth "Just. Like. That. I'm allowed to be angry."_

"_Yes."_

"_Left me to all of…this" he spat contemptuously, waving a hand to encompass the crumbling walls lining the grounds. _

"_Yes" she agreed. "Winning the battle was merely a step. Saving Hyrule is a much more complicated task."_

"_I didn't ask for any of this" he hissed._

"_No, but the Goddesses deemed you worthy"_

_He'd quieted at that, because the Goddesses chose her too and she never complained…_

"_When…when people dear to us…" she had paused a moment, collecting her thoughts "when their paths…diverge from ours. It is perfectly natural to feel abandoned, angry, scared…and it is in those moments where hope seems so fragile that courage must be called forth; to overcome these insecurities and allow us to find new joys, new adventures, and new dreams"_

_She relinquished her hold on his shoulder, taking his free hand in both of hers._

"_Just because you no longer see that person who forged so many wonderful times with you, does not mean that the happiness of those memories leaves with them. One need never feel alone. Our loved ones we carry with us in our hearts…always."_

So eloquent…Midna would've just whacked him for his stupidity.

No…Queen Zelda…was very different. Even then, with her eyes dark with disapproval…he couldn't bring himself to look away or storm off or scoff…because Goddesses she was beautiful…

That undeniable fact always seemed to overwhelm him, leaving him breathless and uncomfortable in his skin… and he wondered if his supposed incarnations ever dealt with this; especially if their Zelda's were half as beautiful as his.

It was probably a mercy that she hadn't joined his and Midna's journey. He would've been so damned distracted.

He supposed he ought to feel chagrined, that the first thing he always seemed to think of was her beauty.

But whenever he pictured her, it always came back to her lovely eyes.

So beautiful…beautiful…but sad…

Yes…there was a streak of sadness in her so profound, that he often lay awake at night wondering about her…

For someone who continually insisted that he share his burdens; she never told him anything about herself or her troubles.

And he knew there were plenty.

Those times when her violet eyes would lose focus and she was lost in her own world…

And he just knew…knew intrinsically…that for that one terrible moment, she's back in that tower…

And it made him feel powerless…not only because it took so long to free her, but that he lacks the strength to talk about it…even now.

Despite being the Bearer of Courage, he'd never been quite brave enough to ask her what being a prisoner of Ganondorf entailed.

Had she been chained? Beaten? Starved? Or worse?

Just the idea of it sent anger surging through his veins…

_Never again_, he vowed, glancing at her bedroom tower—almost certain he glimpsed her for a moment.

_Never again will you know such torment, my Queen. This __**Hero **__promises. _

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><p>Read &amp; Review please! ^-^<p>

This whole thing was inspired after too much Mountain Dew and pondering the whole "power corrupts" parable with Ganondorf. I started wondering what too much "wisdom" could rot into; i.e. too much thinking, not enough feeling.

And my brain went OHO! Rationale (to the point of cynicism) eating up her humanity; making her doubt the validity of emotions—that wisdom should give her the ability to dictate what her heart feels.

Thus, making her a very controlling (though well-intentioned) person…which would definitely put her at odds with someone like Link, who goes with the flow.

And whereas he'd be open to feelings of affection (platonic and romantic), she'd try to fight the invasive sensation at every turn.

It was an interesting concept and I just ran with it…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Zelda.

AN: Thank you soo much for your reviews! I've been delighted by the positive feedback.

NaviLegacy you pretty much hit the nail on the head! I hope you enjoy what a little too much of tactless courage can do. ^-^

Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 2: Poise**

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><p>Illia balled her hands into fists, fingernails digging into her palms.<p>

It wasn't fair…

She was losing him…

Every minute of every day he kept drifting farther and father; even when he was standing beside her, he was miles away in his mind.

After the whole Twilight fiasco, she'd thought things would clear up. That life would go back to normal.

That he'd come home and put his adventure behind him. He did visit Ordon…sporadically which relieved the village immensely; though it often seemed like he only there in body. His spirit was elsewhere and his eyes were fixed on the horizon.

The Link she'd grown up with, fallen in love with, and pined for had gone on a perilous adventure and become someone else.

'_I'm waiting for someone who isn't coming back'_ she thought morosely.

It hurt. They'd always been so close. She'd always been so sure that nothing, that no one would get in between them.

And why not? They'd always been inseparable.

Orphaned.

He had no one at all.

So she made herself the center of his world. He let her.

They'd play games. She loved winning. He let her.

The other children had muttered amongst themselves, that no one else would marry a nobody like Link.

So when she announced to anyone who'd listen that Link was her husband-to-be…someday. He let her.

She'd always assumed he did that because he felt the same way.

That his heart sped up when he looked at her…

That his arms tingled when they hugged, and ached when they separated…

That he looked forward to those childhood promises…

She wrapped her dress's sash around her fingers so tight, it was cutting the circulation.

Because feeling anything, even pain, was far better than grief.

It was like the Link she'd always known was dying right in front of her.

Since when was he suave? Sweeping into a graceful bow as the Queen of Hyrule approached.

The Link she knew tripped over his own feet whenever the village threw a Harvest Dance.

Since when was he bold? Lips lingering on that gloved hand almost indecently long.

Where was the boy who'd blushed for hours after she'd given him a kiss?

'_Curse her'_, Illia thought rather bitterly.

Queen Zelda had power, prestige, and status. Why? Why did she get to have beauty too? Goddesses, that just wasn't fair…

It was pretty obvious the Queen could care less about the rest of them.

Ashei and Shad bowed respectfully to their ruler, leaving Illia to clumsily follow suit.

Her Majesty solemnly greeted them and stood beside Link, who proffered his arm.

Her Highness accepted it casually; slipping her arm through his with the sort of familiarity that meant they did this often.

Illia swallowed down the bile rising in her throat.

'_I loved you first Link'_ she thought desperately '_I loved you before all of this, before the glory and destiny and whatever.' _

She felt tears well up in her eyes…losing him…

Link cleared his throat a bit uncertainly, "Er, perhaps you ought to find a good spot now before too many people gather. We…um that is Her Majesty and I, need to discuss last minute details-"

Losing him…

"Good luck Link" she called, voice stretched thin with emotion "Don't you dare trip while you're up there. You gotta make Ordon proud!"

He raised a hand in a dismissive wave, eyes never leaving his Queen.

Too late, his brain was mush…

Too late, he was too far gone…

Too late, she'd missed her chance…

Lost…

Ashei and Shad gently steered her away.

'_She only admires the Hero, Link'_ Illia thought desperately _'I love the goat herder._'

* * *

><p>Link frowned, as he scrutinized his ruler, who was steadfastly avoiding his gaze.<p>

He'd envisioned this going much smoother.

Even before Her Highness had arrived, his friends had seemed nervous at the prospect of meeting their queen intimately.

Which struck him as ridiculous; the Resistance had been trying to restore Hyrule to its ruler. Why not meet her and be thanked in person?

She was benevolent and wise and kind.

Yet no matter how many times he'd stressed that in the moments prior, the meeting went…poorly.

Robust Ashei was quiet in her majesty's presence.

Shad had gone stiff, as though fidgeting would be the highest form of insult.

Illia alternated between outright staring at her highness and staring at the ground.

"Members of the Resistance" Link had nodded at the two "Ashei, a formidable warrioress and Shad, an invaluable scholar."

Each had bowed deeply.

"And my dearest friend from childhood, Illia. All of whom were of great aid to me in battle or in spirit."

Queen Zelda nodded gravely, "I'll see you all compensated for your devotion and bravery for our beloved nation and your assistance to our Noble Hero."

Murmurs of "Your Highness" and "too kind" filled the awkward silence.

'_We're all allies! Friends!'_ He wanted to blurt out. '_There's no need for all of this...'_

He wanted to slap his forehead in aggravation

His friends couldn't be helped. Royalty just had that effect on regular people; A curious case of paralysis that left you frozen in their presence.

But Queen Zelda…for all that supposed wisdom; she could be a bit dense when it came to people.

'_Smile at them,'_ he willed her silently, _'smile at them, the way you smile at me_.'

These were his friends. There was no need for her to be the high and mighty queen amongst them.

He frowned, her behavior was…off…and unsettling…

She was acting unusually aloof and holding his arm much tighter than usual.

She couldn't possibly be afraid? Or nervous, could she? Of a silly parade?

She who'd fought against Evil personified?

Who'd stood tall as her soldiers fell?

Desperately, he cut the meeting short suggesting they find a good spot for the festivities, before the awkwardness could warp into something even more painfully uncomfortable.

He watched her give a graceful curtsy before sending them off with an eloquent farewell; the words so coldly civil that ice seemed to hang in the air after she breathed them—her 'ruler' smile twisting her mouth and never reaching her eyes.

His eyes narrowed: she'd retracted into her monarch persona.

A defense strategy he'd witnessed in her dealings with her council and stuffy aristocrats.

Perhaps she thought the resistance might bear her a grudge?

For not holding off the invasion?

Still, what kind of champion did she take him for?

He'd never carelessly drag her into a hostile situation. Literally or verbally.

The hurried footfalls of his companions departing for the town square echoed loudly in his ears.

Eager to leave…

It sounded like failure to him…and that was frustrating…

Especially since Shad and Ashei had accepted Illia so easily. Though Telma's good word may have had a hand in that.

He clenched his teeth. Usually he could swallow his displeasure down after a few moments…

But he planned on celebrating with _**all**_ of them afterwards.

Now it seemed he'd have to split his evening between his companions and Zelda.

Yes, he knew they all had different personalities that there was always the possibility that they could…_**clash**_, but it felt like they were being needlessly difficult.

He glanced at Queen Zelda, whose back was so ram-rod straight, she'd give a statue a run for its money.

Didn't she know that poise of that magnitude set people on edge?

He wanted to voice his displeasure…

Wanted her to understand…

But he didn't want to offend…

If he was too abrupt with criticism, he'd receive a quiet "I see." And she'd usually just take pains to avoid repeating the situation in his presence.

He'd learned that the hard way after inviting her out on one of her rare days off.

Had planned on acquainting her with Telma; who Zelda had expressed a lot of interest in…

He'd instructed her to meet him beside a flower vendor, and things went downhill from there.

She'd intimidated the young peddler so terribly; the poor thing dropped her wares and cried.

He'd bent to help the girl, grumbling about 'unkindly people' and their 'cold looks' and 'how they didn't move to help pick up said flowers.'

Still, after all was said and done he hadn't thought too much of the peddler, who'd given him a slightly crushed (though free of charge) bouquet.

And even less about what he'd groused…which had been meant mostly in jest with a tad of scolding.

But apparently his careless words were taken to heart and Zelda grew increasingly distant through their following conversation.

She abruptly remembered an important meeting for something or other (the fact that she couldn't give _**any**_ details pretty much proved that she was lying to him) and she just…fled.

Leaving him there…with a handful of flowers that were always intended for her.

And she never met him at that stall again.

A real shame…

It would've been a great regular spot where he could've greeted her with roses.

He sighed in remembrance; sometimes… she just made him feel so thwarted and uncertain…

He was at a loss of what to do…

Unbidden, he remembered Zelda once confiding, "_When I lose direction I pray to Nayrule for guidance…"_

In fact, she did so often. Skirts fanned around her kneeling form, hands clasped tightly to her chest; looking pious and earnest…and wonderful…

He blinked, would that work for him?

He'd never really "formally" called on his patron Goddess.

He scratched the back of his ear with his free hand, how exactly did one go about that?

Well…if Gannondorf managed it…surely Link could succeed too.

'_Farore?_' he implored uncertainly though with earnest desire. '_I ask for courage to…to…er…surmount…'_

He gave a sideways glance to his lovely companion focusing on her beautiful face and felt his mouth go dry.

'_obstacles.' _

Nothing…

Nothing at all…

Well…that wasn't terribly surprising; though it didn't stop a tidal wave of disappointment from crashing over him.

He must not have done it right.

Maybe there was a special incantation he had to search for, or some ritual he had to perform to gain her favor...

Sending a prayer to the Goddesses was probably complicated.

His ears twitched suddenly, and what curiously sounded like giggling filled them.

His breath left him in a rush as he felt his triforce hum to life, its strength burning through him.

He'd never really tried activating it outside of the battlefield.

Usually he'd be fighting and when he was in dire need, it would just…tear through him, empowering him.

And now he felt it, that same rush of vigor; though what he planned to do with it was still a little sketchy.

A heady feeling (battlelust?) swarmed his senses, adrenaline pumped through his system, muscles tensed in anticipation…

'_But Zelda wasn't an enemy_,' he thought firmly; she was _**never **_to be thought of that way. Just the idea of it and his memory of her body being manipulated sickened him…

Again the sound of giggling filled his ears, as if terribly amused…

Simultaneously warmth spread throughout his body, bringing an encompassing sense of reassurance…

And his worries melted away to the corner of his mind...he had no need to fear…

He was undefeatable….

* * *

><p>"Well," Link announced flippantly, "if you treated Gannondorf half as coldly as them. No wonder he locked you away. You scared him and he didn't want competition."<p>

Zelda nearly tripped in shock.

Quiet gentle Link who rarely raised his voice (and only in times of prolonged and incessant agitation) had just openly mocked her.

It was probably the first time he ever spoke about her imprisonment at all…and in cruel jest!

The downright impertinence of it!

Belittling her suffering like that!

She whipped her head to fix him with a steely glare, momentarily forgetting how close he was.

So close that when she turned, her nose whispered by his.

They were literally face to face, less than a breath separating their lips.

His eyes watched her expectantly. Nonplussed by her anger or their now compromising position…

His lack of concern left her grappling for a foothold in normalcy.

There were rules…unspoken rules of propriety that neither of them would cross…

Moments like this, where personal space was breached demanded that both of them step apart—immediately.

He'd usually retract first with an apologetic smile. And she'd smile and follow suit showing that no lasting harm was done.

This time though…he didn't move and his arm was pinning her fingers into his side. Effectively trapping her to him…

Her fury fled in face of this—snuffed like a candle in a high wind. He was breaking the rules…

And after that startling revelation all coherent thought left her…Leaving her adrift amongst foreign, unwelcome sensations…

His eyes bore into her, nearly hypnotizing her into believing that right now…there was just him. In this moment he was all that existed. He was the center of her world.

His penetrating blue gaze…The curve of his smirk…His warm bicep beneath her fingers…

Her heart leapt in her throat…

He wasn't allowed to do this…

To just change everything…

Almost of its own accord (or so it seemed to her hazy mind) her hand reached up.

His eyes flinched slightly as though anticipating a well-deserved slap.

Instead she rested her fingers against his lips in reprimand.

"I-insol-ence" she whispered, but there was no strength in the word and she felt his smile widen beneath her hand.

That was supposed to come out harshly—halt his advances, make her displeasure known.

Return them to the rules of engagement that she knew so well.

Furious at her lack of control, she tried again, "Y-you're being impert-ti-ti"

His eyes crinkled warmly at her and the swooping feeling in her stomach intensified.

He did this to her…

Reduced her to this…

Terrifying and humiliating and debilitating as it was… she could never get enough.

This was why they had to part company…

Why his 'happily-ever-after' had to be far away from her…

What kind of queen could she be if she let her heart be stolen?

It belonged to her land. To her people. To principles of justice and honor. How easily she could be manipulated if she ever gave it to a man…

Unforgivable…

He removed her hand easily, holding it in his and admiring its slender form.

"Link the Impertinent Hero" he mused aloud, voice smoother than she'd ever heard it before and it sent a pleasant shiver through her "Has a certain ring to it…I like it."

He gave her a rakish grin, and kissed the palm of her hand.

So blatantly bold, that she was left utterly stunned with her heart pounding in her ears.

"My queen, it's time" her head guard alerted her, a distinct look of disapproval marring his features.

Her face heated up, words catching in her throat—thoughts disorganized and feelings utterly treasonous.

So she did the only thing she could think of.

'_Nayrule!'_

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><p>Read and Review Please! ^-^<p>

Because everything always gets complicated whenever Goddesses are involved.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own the Legend of Zelda TP or any of the others.

Author's Note: Thank you for your awesome reviews! And thanks for alerting me to the typo, must've gotten a little type-happy after thinking/writing/daydreaming about "Hyrule" one too many times. : D

As for any other typos (grammar, tenses, spelling), I try to weed out the worst ones but…eh…I'm not perfect. Mayhap, one day I shall try out the whole Beta-partner thing…till then…it's me and spell check : D We do what we can.

Sorry for the wait, but hopefully you'll find it worth the while!

Have fun on your trip TwilightQueenMidna! Hope you get to read this before you go!

* * *

><p>Chapter 3<p>

* * *

><p>Nayru answered with a cold shock that ripped through both Bearers with incredible force—causing both to stumble back.<p>

Zelda released a silent breath of relief; Nayru's guidance flowed through her veins, sharp and icy; a cleansing force which restored her pulse and returned her mind to reason.

Yet even with divine tranquility forced upon her…the skin of her hand tingled…

The captain of her guards, Cirsel, frowned—the already pronounced lines on his weathered face deepened, "Milady?"

"Very well" she nodded before sweeping away intent on surveying the last minute preparations.

She took extra care not to look at the young swordsman staring after her.

* * *

><p>When Zelda approached Sir Ethine, on the matter of her sword (her father's actually) he swiftly opened the case in his arms.<p>

Not in the least bothered that this was the third time she'd questioned him in the last hour, or the fact that she never seemed to _**look**_ at the sword she was supposedly worrying about.

'No,' he thought smirking as he watched her gaze wander back to the contingent. No doubt in search of a _**certain**_ Hero of Twilight.

He was tempted to remark on what he'd seen transpire, but wisely refrained; If only because the head guard was observing them both…and only for the lady's dignity.

Ten years younger than Cirsel, Ethine wasn't nearly so stuffy.

Truthfully, he found it a bit reassuring, that his Prin-er-Queen favored _**someone**_ at least.

Perhaps the boy wasn't the match that elder nobles found…suitable, but Ethine wasn't picky at this point.

If push came to shove, he was certain their Queen was stubborn enough to rule alone.

Which would be a shame, her descendents would undoubtedly be better suited than any her cousins could provide.

Aloud, Ethine reassured her that the blade was quite clean and safe while she feigned concern, running a hand over its ornate handle.

For a moment he wavered, words balancing on the tip of his tongue. Phrases like "happiness" and "exceptions" and "people-worth-making-exceptions-for…."

But the moment passed in silence…

When she moved on to speak with Tanen about the festivities afterward, he ran a hand through his auburn curls.

Perhaps addressing the Queen on such a…_**delicate**_ matter would be unsuitable.

But maybe tonight at the festivities, he'd see if he couldn't motivate the Hero to act.

It all seemed rather obvious to the castle staff and guards; what with the boy following their Queen like a duckling…and the Queen allowing it. The latter of which spoke volumes to all who'd known the Lady Zelda for her lifetime.

Especially as she'd dismissed a suitor once for breathing too loudly while she visited the library with him in tow.

Yes she'd been only fourteen then. And yes the man was far too old for her and unsuitable in countless other ways. But it was the way she'd denounced him as a needless distraction, nay…an obstruction…that startled so many.

So…perhaps she really DID enjoy Link's company…or perhaps his breathing was much quieter.

Regardless, Ethine would see to it that the hero drank a bit of liquid courage, heard a heartening pep talk, and got a shove in the right direction.

And who knew? Maybe the Goddesses would smile on their Bearers again? And Hyrule would soon have an even greater occasion to celebrate?

* * *

><p>That kiss…<p>

Everything else Zelda could always explain away at the end of the day.

The way he'd take such care when escorting her, treating her arm as though it were made of glass…that was just chivalry…he also escorted elder women across busy streets.

The way he'd always carry her items no matter how heavy or light they might be…that was simple courtesy…She'd witnessed him help expecting mothers with their parcels.

The way he'd make himself useful, taking it upon himself to aid her people, taking it upon himself to solve their often numerous complaints…an innate kindness…Kindness that he shared with all…it was never hers alone…

And yet…

Any time she'd found his eyes lingering on her, or when he'd sat too near, a curious flare alighted in her breast.

She'd reprimand herself for noticing such details—for pretending to see what wasn't there…

He barely knew her…They were strangers thrown together by a whim of fate.

This…affection she felt for him was nothing more than a combination of her extreme gratefulness, respect, and admiration.

He'd saved her kingdom, it was only natural to be…fond of him…for that.

And if she harbored an…appreciation for his striking features…it was only to be expected…he was a fine specimen. Moderate strength. Slender. Built for agility and speed.

As she judged horses, so she judged men. All in all, this method had proved fairly reliable.

It separated the _**feelings **_derived from _**seeing**_—transforming sights to harmless observations.

She'd seen plenty of handsome men before, eager for her throne.

She'd learned how to control the warmth of desire. With aid from Nayru, she could freeze out such feelings.

And once the initial haze was dealt with, one could easily see through angel faces to the devil inside.

But that kiss…her hand tingled and she clenched her fingers tightly.

As the guards went into formation (it was time for the parade), she discreetly searched for Link, wondering if his face burned as hotly as hers…but he'd already joined the contingent of soldiers, taking his place at the back. He'd come forward after her speech to be knighted.

She sighed.

He was so terribly short, that she could just glimpse the green of his hat between their shoulders.

She dared not tease him for it though, for he was…sensitive on the subject.

Last week, she'd been talking to Ciersel, who'd finally relented to watch Link perform his battle prowess. She'd been insistent on the point that Link would not be a knight in 'title only.'

Naturally he'd been more than impressed with Link's swordsmanship; that Link should join the guards as soon as he was able. They briefly discussed barracks allotment, training schedules, and possible work shifts…when the topic of uniforms cropped up.

Both had unanimously agreed that there'd need to be some alterations due to his stature.

Unfortunately Link approached them then and was surprisingly flustered.

Defensively objecting, that he'd only _**just**_ hit his majority so it was very likely he'd grow a bit more.

Baffled by the reaction (especially since it seemed so trivial to her) she clumsily tried to soothe his ruffled feathers; announcing that height mattered not-as Link himself proved against Ganondorf.

He'd stiffly accepted the compliment, but flatly assured her that he _**would **_be growing. Zelda was inclined to believe him; he'd already managed the near impossible task of saving Hyrule—So if he said he was going to grow, by Goddesses, she believed he would…by sheer force of will if nothing else.

* * *

><p>Link blew out a nervous breath as he readjusted his hat. Goddesses, his face was so hot, he was sure he was melting.<p>

In fact, the inside of a volcano seemed preferable to this…catastrophe.

He didn't think he'd ever been so embarrassed in his life!

Well…except for that one time with Colin…

It'd been his first summer as an official ranch hand; before he'd been more of a stable boy-Doing grunt work and menial errands in town.

But at fifteen he'd finally been accepted as strong enough for the job.

It was his day off; he'd been minding his own business fishing when…

"_Link! Link!" Colin cried distressed, nearly tripping in his haste. "Hurry it's the goats! They're fighting!"_

_Naturally he'd sprung into action; the Goats were usually fairly docile, though territory disputes did happen on occasion. And as they were the primary source of income for Ordon, the villagers never risked them being injured. _

_As Link rushed toward the scene which caused Colin so much distress, he staggered to a stop._

"_See Link! Do something!" Colin ordered, pointing a finger at the two goats. "Stop them!"_

_Link opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of a good explanation…or lie. _

"_Um…uh…"_

"_Link!"_

"…_It's…alright Colin….it's…natural…They're fine… They're not…fighting. It's just how goats…show they…like each other…a lot."_

Goddesses. NOTHING could compare to that. Though this came pretty close.

Her face so close to his and he…

What on earth had he been thinking?

'_Farore!'_ he cursed '_You were s'posed to help!'_

Now Queen Zelda probably despised him.

Had to…after that.

When Cirsel finally ceased glaring at him disapprovingly, and left with a scout for a final checking of the street. Link made his move.

In precious minutes the parade would start and he'd be fine pressed to find an opportunity to speak with Queen Zelda until late in the evening…and even then…they'd be surrounded by even more people.

He'd circled through the area several times, weaving through knights and guards.

Finally one with reddish hair pointed over to a fountain on a raised dais. There paced his-uh-_**her**_ ladyship. The knight gave him an approving nod and a salute while a couple soldiers chuckled in amusement.

Was his infatuation THAT transparent?

Oh well, he wouldn't get a better moment to apologize.

Heavily aware that he was being watched, and that he deserved to be. He approached the dais, toes brushing the bottom step. He stared at the mosaic pattern on the step—his palms felt sweaty. Maybe down here…with some space between them he could think more easily.

Often the closer he came to her; the slower his mind seemed to work. Yes down here…

"Milady I-I"

She glanced at him wearily. He tried to focus on the fountain behind her, the artful structure of flower-like statuettes spouting water…but….it wasn't helping…

."I-I-I"

He took a deep breath and then—a flash of warmth surged through his triforce. And he promptly climbed those stairs and knelt before her, taking her hand in his.

She made no sound—simply stared at him, eyes wide and a bit bewildered—and discreetly tried to remove her fingers from his grasp.

"Milady?"

She pulled harder.

"Do you detest me now then?" he drawled, one eyebrow raised high. He waited expectantly—oddly comfortable with the insolence he was displaying. "You find the touch of this Goat Herder so disgusting?"

She stopped struggling.

He rarely vocalized his emotions let alone his agitations. And never in such a blatant matter…it was strangely liberating…

He felt like himself…and yet unlike himself. For months, resentment had kept pooling in the bottom of his mind; that no one let him forget that he was a commoner, that Zelda was royalty, and that their friendship was never going to be understood by others. Let alone accepted.

All of which meant nothing, if _**she**_ accepted him. Only he could never get a definitive answer from her. Her words were often vague like fading smoke. Did she see a barrier between them?

"N-no, I do not…could never…detest you Hero" she murmured.

Of course she did not. He let out a breath he hadn't even noticed he was holding. He knew that…deep down. Still, hearing it aloud made him smile.

"Aha. So I remain your Hero in spite of my insolence and my lowly station?"

"The goddesses deem us Bearers as equals" his queen murmured shakily, obviously unsure of where this conversation was leading.

"So they do. And as such I feel _**these**_ will not be unnecessary."

He briefly clasped both of his hands around her dainty one, and plucked the fingertips of her gloves. With a flourish he pulled the fabric off.

Her cold hand rested in his—and while he did register that she had a surprisingly icy touch, it did nothing to cool his ardor.

"Much better" he commented "It gladdens my heart that you aren't ashamed to hold the hand of this peasant."

"N-n-no" she replied, her free hand twitching momentarily before hesitantly reaching to join his. "These…these hands saved Hyrule…and…and me as well."

He squeezed her cool fingers gently for they felt as thin and fragile as a bird's wing. And he would never willingly cause her pain. Truly, it was very much his intention to see her smile…and longing to be the cause of her joy.

"Now I'd like to practice that last bit of our ceremony. Care to indulge me?"

Her lips moved soundlessly for a moment, before whispering "S-sir Link of Ordon, your…your Queen commands-

He'd been forced to practice this part repeatedly over the last week. Being so near her and performing an action that could be interpreted as…well…_**intimate**_ usually made his knees wobble. And he'd fallen over at least three times rehearsing it...much to the guards' amusement.

He could slay dragons and monsters with ease, but court etiquette…now there was a challenge.

Yes it was a little embarrassing…though he hadn't really minded…and near the end after getting the words and sequences memorized…

Well…

Perhaps he'd botched a few attempts on purpose…because even then—kissing gloved hands was better than nothing.

"Like this…right?" he asked with a sly smile, lips ghosting over her flesh.

Why, if anyone saw them now? (Well technically, he was fairly sure half of the squad was watching them) What would they think? Would they see a Queen and her Champion? Or…or something more?

He swallowed…

Her eyes bore into his…

A vivid flush on her marble skin…

Rather becoming on her…

Before there'd been a wall of composure around her…she'd been a fortress.

Sharp looks and sharp words defended her well. And her strict adherence to protocol made her distant and regal.

Unattainable…

A figure of dignity. A symbol of Hyrule.

He kissed the knuckles of both of her hands.

And then held the pads of her fingers against his lips, "I pledge my life to your service, my shield to your defense, my sword to your name"

"I-I, Queen Zelda of Hyrule, accept thee's oath of fealty to my crown and to my land. My spirit rests easy knowing I have thee…" she trailed off and cleared her throat hastily "t-that I have thee to depend on in times of crisis and in times of prosperity. I thank thee for thy commitment and that together we will see Hyrule returned to glory."

As they finished, they continued watching one another and smiles blossomed over their faces.

The moment tingled with electricity, and now was the time to say something good.

Something romantic or tender…

That's what Ilia said lovers were supposed to do. He remembered how as children she'd sometimes make them play 'family.' Where she was the mother and he was the father and Colin was the child. And she'd always get so frustrated with him, because he'd just call her 'Wife.'

'Yes Wife' 'No Wife' 'Go feed the chickens Wife'

'_Honey, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart! Pick one! You're s'posed to say sweet nothings in my ear!' Illia had berated._

'…_Yes Wife.'_

Sweet nothings…compliments! Yes! He should compliment her! He should-

"YOU!"

He was roughly grabbed by his elbow…and ear.

"You brazen cockerel you!" Ciersel hissed, face red with fury.

He looked downright ready to flog him, right here, right now. No trial.

"We were practicing the end of his ceremony" Queen supplied rather breathlessly, her cheeks still a bit too pink for her to be taken seriously.

"And improvising a bit" the captain announced dryly, his hard gaze swiveling towards her.

She glared back, eyes just as flinty, "I know not what you are suggesting Captain. Mayhap you need explain it?"

Her spine had straightened, her complexion paled with every second, her eyes cold and narrowed…this was not the blushing filly from a heartbeat before.

This was Queen Zelda of Hyrule and she was a force to be reckoned with.

The stare down continued several beats more, before the head guard relented. With teeth gritted, he bowed to his Queen and remarked that he was mistaken.

His frustrations vented themselves in practically throwing Link off the dais.

Only quick reflexes (and perhaps experience from sumo matches) saved the young man from a painful fall on the stone pavement. As he balanced himself, and opened his mouth to protest he was interrupted.

"I'll see him to his spot!" the auburn haired knight volunteered, rushing up and pulling Link out of sight.

"I believe that would be best" Queen Zelda replied her voice loud and clear and ringing with authority. "Fall back into ranks. We leave now."

"Your highness!" the men saluted.

"Your ladyship, I-"

"We leave NOW, Captain"

* * *

><p>Link could barely keep up with the man dragging him to safety.<p>

They moved through the throng of soldiers, some of whom stared in incredulity, some in distaste, and others who actually nudged him in the ribs and clapped him on the back.

"Well you're certainly a bold one aren't you?" the man leading him chuckled good-naturedly. "Still, I'm not terribly surprised. You don't strike me as the kind of warrior who haunts libraries without _**something**_ to make his time worth while."

Link flushed at the statement, and that wasn't even the worse one thus far.

The mutterings following him made his face burn—his ears could rival a tomato.

"I thought it was strange how he kept needin' to practice that bit-"

"Hm, 'twas strategy-"

"Well, I see now why he succeeded in saving Hyrule-"

"Cheeky lil' dev-"

"Persistent, brazen, gutter-minded-"

"Fearless isn't he?"

"I bet ya forty rupees-"

"Ah, to be young and hot-blooded…Powerful motivation indeed"

Link groaned in misery, sure he'd die of humiliation before the night's end—news of this would spread like wildfire.

'_Thanks a lot Farore'_

* * *

><p>Read and Review Pleeeease : D<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Happy 4th of July! (Or at least it was while I was typing this!) Whoooo! I don't own Legend of Zeldaaaa!

Author's Note: Thank you soooo much for your reviews. I love feedback! It motivates me to update more swiftly. So feel free to speak your mind. Compliments, critiques, and grammar tips are all welcome.

Now this might sound strange. But a trend I've found in stories is that Chapter 4 tends to be boring. Hopefully this will not be the case.

Link-centric chapter. Hope you enjoy! : D

Epic cake with awesome sauce! Tee hee! Let's see if I can add some sprinkles!

**Chapter 4**

* * *

><p>Link considered himself a simple man. And as a simple man, he never cared much for theatrics.<p>

Extensive use of symbolic metaphors and flowery speech was wasted on him.

Which is to say: the ceremony bored him to death.

After several ballads, three songs, and a troupe of dancers all reenacting various parts of the Twilight Invasion and Battle (all of which bore NO resemblance to what actually happened).

Link was ready for this thing to end. It was already embarrassing to hear his name crop up enough times to make his ears burn.

But to see a man in green, waving a sword around (supposedly pantomiming him)—well, it was just too much.

He fought a groan of frustration and fidgeted again. His legs were burning. How long was this going to take?

He looked for Her Majesty.

A stage had been constructed for the event, bushels of flowers and swathes of fabric decorated it in loops.

The floral scent was so powerful, it made his nose itch. He hoped to the goddesses that he didn't sneeze during his knighting.

Would she be mortified if he did?

She never seemed to have embarrassing moments. Maybe royalty was immune to the sort of humiliations that seem to plague commoners daily.

There she stood regally before her people, her skirts swaying gently with the breeze. Her hands clasped to her breasts, and her head bowed as Cirsel read off a list of the Fallen.

There was a moment of silence to honor them.

And then a list of the Brave was announced.

He noted vaguely that as Shad and Ashei's names were spoken a great cheer followed.

But it was hard to concentrate when all he could see now was Queen Zelda.

Wisps of her hair worked themselves free of her braids. Her skirts billowed around her form as the wind picked up, and he glimpsed her boots.

Boots. It amused him to no end.

While all the other noble women (and even some men!) wore jeweled and beaded slippers. The Queen wore boots—sturdy ones from the look of them.

He wiggled his toes in his own pair and suppressed a grin. It meant they both had disregarded the Royal Fashion Advisor's instruction to wear the fancy footwear she'd provided.

They chose what was comfortable. And for Link it still wasn't quite enough.

He swore his ruler had a magical capacity to stand still for hours (probably days) without looking any worse for wear.

Unbidden his mind conjured up an image of her pretending to be a statue while Zant passed by. How _**did**_ she find ways to slip away to talk to him and Midna?

When all of this was over, he'd have to ask her secret.

The tri-force must have really connected them, for suddenly her gaze was upon him. Almost as if she knew he was thinking of her.

He offered a small wave and she smiled gently.

He grinned back; well maybe standing wasn't sooo bad.

Cirsel wrapped up with "And now Her Ladyship, Queen Zelda of Hyrule would like to personally thank our Kingdom's Bravest Warrior. He who single-handedly saved our lands from certain peril: Link of Ordon, The Hero of Twilight, Her Majesty's Rescuer! Please stand before your Queen and country."

* * *

><p>Any hopes of her gratitude being short-winded, was lost the moment "thou art" left her lips.<p>

Link did his best to look respectful, and interested, and heroic—as he knew the masses were watching him.

He'd been instructed to stare out into the crowd during this part. To engage the people with a smile …that turned bland after several moments.

It did become genuine again, when he caught sight of Ilia waving frantically at him.

It was nice to see someone was enjoying this spectacle.

He knew the Queen was trying to offer him a reward for his services. That the heroes before him were each celebrated this way. And that now there'd be a day of glory in his name.

Personally, he'd have preferred a 'thank you' with less fanfare.

Birthdays were uncomfortable enough in Ordon, with all the villagers fussing over him—overcompensating for his lack of family.

This …This would be unbearable.

He made a mental note to always be traveling during this week.

He stifled a yawn, as Her Majesty began describing the "King of Evil."

Link had been up since dawn (and while he'd grown up in a ranch where that was normal) he'd usually have done more exciting tasks than this; active ones that would've shaken him to alertness.

So her speech was lost on him. Still, the rest of her people appreciated it.

The townspeople looked downright awed; her poetic phrases hit their marks. He wondered idly if they knew she could shoot a bow even better.

Her words cast images of light against darkness. Of heroism and hope against despair.

Simplifying the events that her people might at least have a gist of what happened.

In Link's opinion it hardly did the tale justice.

And all the "thee's" and "thou's" and "dost's" made him feel like she was retelling some ancient legend rather than the events which they both lived.

He disliked how she downplayed her role. She was offering him all the glory and it wasn't like he could interrupt and correct the version.

One doesn't speak over one's Queen—famed champion or not.

The crowd cheered as she swept an elegant hand towards him, "Hero of the Twilight, Link of Ordon, I ask thee to come to me."

He swiftly moved to her, eager to turn his back on their audience.

Her amethyst eyes lit up, twinkling a happy lavender he saw all too little of.

Thankfully she hadn't taken offense for …earlier …

In fact, a fond smile played on her lips … she was probably amused by his pitiful displays.

Fondness…

It was the most he could ever hope for from her. Deep down he knew that…Knew that the most affection she'd permit herself to feel for him was the way an owner prides herself of a faithful pet…

Still…to be near her…

"O Glorious Hero. This day we recognize your gallantry-"

As Sir Link he'd be stationed somewhere (possibly back in Ordon where he'd be a knight in title only).

Or mayhap in Castle Town in the barracks or…in a contingent patrolling or guarding or exploring.

Yes, she'd probably enlist him in one of those, where he'd at least get _**some**_ excitement.

Once upon a time, as a daydreaming ranch hand in his village, he'd fantasized about just that.

Lying in the fields, lazily watching the goats, he'd thought about how great Castle Town must be.

That someday he'd visit and perhaps apply to be a soldier.

Rusl had agreed that such an adventure would make a man out of him. Hence, Rusl's insistence that Link be the one to deliver the parcel to the Royal Family.

He'd been so young and naive then, so eager for a purpose and perhaps a passing moment of glory. His village would've been immensely pleased with him for seeing the task through. And perhaps he'd get to talk to a guard and see what the job entailed.

Being a ranch hand (while a worthy job) wasn't likely to line your pockets with Rupees.

Goddesses, it all felt like a lifetime ago.

Why a simple smile from his Queen then, would have filled him with enough pride for a lifetime…

She'd always been a faceless monarch in his mind.

He'd heard of her beauty and shrugged it aside. It's not as though loyal subjects would admit that their ruler was ugly.

Surely their words were exaggerations.

Now … now he knew they didn't do her justice …

Now she had a lovely face, a sweet voice, a fierce resolve, a gentle smile…and hands he liked to hold. Lips he would certainly like to—He dislodged the thought before it could take root.

His daydreams seemed rather lacking now after all he had accomplished.

He'd always been rather realistic about what he was likely to accomplish in his life.

He was a poor, orphaned, commoner. The most he could hope for was a stable job, a sturdy house, and a wife that could endure life without luxury.

It'd never been a particularly comforting plan. Or one that he looked forward to executing.

But that was the way lives were lived.

A man established himself, bought a property, and found a wife who would have him.

He wasn't just a man anymore. He was a hero.

His daydreams grew grandiose.

It was undoubtedly foolish, but he liked imagining a future where she gave him preferential treatment.

Assigned him as her private protector; a bodyguard of sorts:

Accompanying her throughout her daily activities and meetings …

Defending her from any villains who dared accost her …

Guarding her bedroom door during the night …

Giggling resounded in his ears, and he barely restrained himself from swatting at them.

"Please kneel, Valiant One that I may bestow the honor of knighthood upon thee"

Link immediately knelt, gazing up at her as one of her guards handed her the ceremonial sword.

Her shadow fell on him as her blade lightly touched his shoulders. She recited something in ancient Hylian that he couldn't even pretend to understand.

Well at least he'd be near her.

A melancholy pang shot through him even as he steeled himself against it.

He held in a sigh, '_I linger in the shadow of someone I'll never stand beside'_

* * *

><p>Blue eyes watched Queen Zelda hand the sword back to a soldier.<p>

"Please remain kneeling" she instructed.

He must've given her a 'duh' look for her lips suddenly twitched with amusement.

"Sir Link of Ordon, your Queen commands your fealty. Will thee give it of free heart and will?

He smiled, greatly pleased, as she presented two gloveless hands to him (when she need only lift one).

He grasped her hands in his, thumbs gently stroking the soft skin of her knuckles, "I pledge my life to your service, my shield to your defense, and my sword to your name"

He gently kissed her hands. Two heartbeats were what the advisors suggested as the proper amount of time said kiss should last. But that was for one hand … and Link was holding two … four heartbeats seemed perfectly reasonable.

"I, Queen Zelda of Hyrule, accept thee's oath of fealty to my crown and to my land. My spirit rests easy knowing I have thee to depend on in times of crisis and in times of prosperity. I thank thee for thy commitment and that together we will see Hyrule returned to glory."

This was it. He was knighted. Still felt like a Goat Herder …

"Please rise Sir Link"

Link obediently stood, thankful his knees didn't pop and ruin the moment.

Now she'd dismiss him. She'd turn and address the people and that was his signal to leave. He'd rejoin the contingent and they'd follow the Queen back to her castle.

From there he'd double back to the town square and visit with his friends—merry making until it was time for the ball.

So when Her Ladyship hesitated and lifted her hand, he blinked in surprise.

This part was new.

For a moment he just stared.

Though when her fingers started to tremble, he immediately stepped forward and grasped them.

She gazed in his eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured soft and sincere and for his ears only.

"I'm at your service. _**Always**_"

Her eyes shone warmly on him and for a moment—standing here with her—it was like only the two of them existed.

If only …

Reluctantly their hands parted and Link took a respectful step back.

He knew how this worked: they'd exchange a series of courteous gestures and he'd be released.

He lowered into a bow when—a cold prickling alighted on his neck and he snapped to attention.

Something wasn't right.

His heart started pounding—adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Her Highness knew it too for her eyes locked on his and time seemed to slow.

They sensed it! A frantic buzzing in their ears! A dire warning!

He had to move!

One hand reached for the sword at his back, and he shifted his weight ready to dart forward.

But his body felt like lead, his feet were anchors.

Her face tilted just slightly, hearing something land behind her, her eyes widening in fear.

Link threw a hand up "Zel-"

Blood splattered across his face.

* * *

><p>Shock rooted him to the spot.<p>

No …

Zelda …

The fiend had impaled her through the back.

For a moment, Zelda simply stared at him; violet eyes wide, lips trembling.

Reluctantly, she gazed down at the blade protruding from her chest. One hand rose as if to inspect it—as if to check that this was some sick illusion.

Red streamed down her front, dyeing her gown, the stain growing with every passing second.

The sword retracted with a wet CRICK! as her slayer shoved her forward.

She stumbled into Link, who held her fast before slowly sinking to his knees.

Fierce blue eyes gazed at the assassin—oblivious to the screams of the crowd—uncaring of the Guards' shouts and curses.

This man, this killer, swathed head to toe in black—a dark ornate sword in his hands.

A pair of wrought-iron serpents wound around the hilt—their jaws clamped around the blade. Blood streamed in rivulets down the weapon, over the snakes—making it seem like they were lapping it up.

The killer flicked his blade, sending flecks of red across the stage.

His tall lean form had an almost animalistic gait—a deadly grace—a predator.

Link growled in his throat, and the killer must've heard it for he watched him closely.

His cruel coal colored eyes stared hard into blue—and Link knew—_**knew**_ that the monster was smiling.

Link was going to kill him—his hand reached back up for his sword.

A soft splutter snagged his attention and he hesitated—gazing into pained violet eyes.

Damn. He couldn't just leave her.

Damn. He had to kill that basta-

"L-l-li-" she gasped, her fingers twisting his tunic.

Couldn't leave her-Couldn't leave her-Couldn't leave her.

Link grit his teeth—going to get away!

The man strolled down to the center of the stage—sweeping his arms wide as he deftly avoided the spears thrown at him, like they were play things aimed by children. His step never faltered or hurried.

And then he laughed; a loud, low rumble that sent women into hysterics and children to bawling.

"Fair subjects of Hyrule" he boomed almost pleasantly, as though his actions before could be written off as something less than heinous.

"Poor sheep—ruthlessly shipped from one herder to another. Back and forth and back again. I offer you this moment: one of ultimate freedom. Let us see what you do with it"

He chuckled again, infinitely amused by the terror he'd unleashed.

Link seethed. As if Zelda, Zant, and Ganondorf could ever be placed in the same category.

The slayer calmly removed something from his belt—and held it high over his head.

A bomb?

Link held Zelda close, ready to jump back if that were the case.

The man tossed it high and as he caught it, a loud CRACK resounded.

An explosion of glittering black powder enveloped the stage, causing more gasps and shrieks from the people.

And Link knew even before the wind blew it aside—that the man was gone.

Link fought down his rage with resolution: he'd track him down, he'd make him pay, he'd make him squirm …later …

Right now, the only thing that mattered was …

Blood soaked through his tunic, through his leggings, into his gloves. All over him … Link was covered in it …

He cradled her in his lap, one hand vainly trying to stem the flow.

"Here, here" he gasped rummaging through the items of his pouch (remnants of his adventure).

He fumbled with the bottle, uncorking it.

"You'll be alright" Link insisted, holding the red potion to her lips "you'll, you-"

He poured the liquid as best he could—tried to quell the panic.

She coughed; blood or potion dribbled from her mouth and ran down her chin.

And the sad fact that it's probably both had his heart plummeting. He knew enough of blood and battle to know …

"Li-"

"No …no, you'll be alright …you" his breath hitched, "You-"

He turned to the guards, who were starting to circle him.

"Help! A doctor! Get a doctor!"

They had to get someone—someone that could fix this. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, deafened himself to the voice of reason in the back of his mind, and ignored the certainty of his instincts.

"Get a doctor NOW!"

He was a warrior. Not a healer. They needed—needed _**Somebody**_! Anybody! Goddesses!

Farore! Nayru! Din!

Somebody please save her.

"Please" he whispered.

Nothing would help. Deep down he knew it was a mortal wound—a direct hit near her heart. Death was coming for her.

"Link" she murmured softly.

Not Hero …

If she was speaking his given name then propriety no longer mattered. None of it mattered any more. Nothing mattered…

"No …"

She gently lifted her hands to his face; her bare fingers tracing his jaw and fingering an earring.

"No please"

"Link" she smiled, eyes shining with a kindness that cut him to the bone.

She _**knew**_; knew that there was nothing to be done. But Goddesses he would've lied to her to the very end. If she'd let him. Let him lie for both their sakes.

"Zelda" he whispered as he rested his crimson-stained hand atop of hers. Both of their tri-forces blazed, connecting them and he-he _**felt**_ her.

The real her beneath the icy composure, rooted responsibility, and cast-iron will.

There was someone soft and compassionate and pure.

The Bearer of Wisdom.

Her soul was a stained glass window with brightly colored panes. And as light shined in she just glowed.

But nestled in that innate goodness, there was a longing.

A sadness …

A regret …

A deep intrinsic loneliness…

And an acceptance…that she'd never see these feelings cured with joy.

Her only comfort was the fulfillment of her duty. And what a cruel, cold comfort that was.

Link held her close and buried his face in her neck. And just felt pain for her.

She whispered his name again, and her hands roamed gently across his face. There were no boundaries now. No fears about status, or repercussions, or scandal.

No secrets, or cryptic insinuations, or symbolic gestures.

She'd made him privy to her innermost emotions—a sure sign that she trusted him above all others.

This was probably the closest she'd ever let anyone come—in every sense of the meaning.

Another surge of pain overcame him.

And why was he allowed so near?

Because she was dying and she needed someone.

Needed someone she trusted to share this moment with; an intimate connection with another person, to alleviate the loneliness … if only for a heartbeat.

Why him?

Because he could never deny her anything …even if it destroyed him.

'_Farore. Please._

_You __**know**__ me. You know I've always accepted all that came my way; all of my circumstances, all of the tragedies of my past, all of the hardships of my quest._

_You know I've never asked for much. This. _

_Please. Please give me this.' _

He felt lips curving into a gentle smile against his skin; the brush of her eyelashes on his cheek; puffs of breath against his ear.

Her fingers curled in the hair at his nape. One palm caressed his face, as if she were memorizing the feel of him.

"Please" he begged. "…stay."

"Now, now" she whispered, a gentle scolding "I'll…see you again in…our new lives."

He stiffened; arms tightening painfully around her—sure to leave bruises.

As if a strong enough embrace would keep her—could save her from falling into the chasm of Death.

"You and I" she breathed "Our fatesss…intertwi.."

Her voice faltered, "So…don't be…sad…I will…_**always**_ come back to-"

Her body stilled and the hand gently stroking his cheek fell away.

So passed the latest Queen of Hyrule; Bearer of the Tri-force of Wisdom and noble ruler of her people.

So passed Zelda; a solitary young woman who strove to meet every obstacle that Fate appointed to her.

A genuine tragedy: for the benevolence, purity, and perseverance of her spirit—the vivacity of her life—would be overshadowed by the violence of her death.

Dereliction, people whispered fearfully, had the goddesses abandoned Hyrule?

* * *

><p>Read &amp; Review : D<p>

Yup, the ANGST part of this story has arrived.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda that honor belongs to Nintendo

AN: Thank you sooo much for your reviews. They really motivate me to write. Remember! Love it or Hate it—Write it in a review! I appreciate ALL feedback.

Featuring Depressed!Link : D Wooo!

Chapter 5

* * *

><p>The trees rustled gently in the breeze as Ilia made her way down a familiar path.<p>

Birds sang, frogs croaked, the river bubbled and children raced about brandishing sticks as swords.

Villagers went about their day: hanging linen, tending vegetables, and weaving baskets.

Everything was so normal, so right, so predictable … except that the whole world had shattered.

Ilia sighed, and plucked at a stray thread on her shirt.

There was a gaping hole now in the center of Hyrule; the cracks just hadn't reached here yet.

She felt strange. At times her heart would pound—thoughts and images flashed like lightning behind her eyes.

The Queen of Hyrule was dead—to think that someone so … untouchable could fall; it was a gruesome revelation that aroused a tempest of feelings:

She felt horror that events as terrible as this existed beyond fairy tales and legends: it was a glimpse into the sort of danger Link now accepted as normal.

_**That**_ woke her up late at night—sweaty and shaking as she envisioned Link battling against such monsters.

She twisted the loosened thread around her finger.

Hyrule's fate was uncertain now—the throne stood empty. Queen Zelda left behind no consort, no heir, and no sibling— who would ascend? Would they be a saint or a tyrant?

No one was safe; a queen (with all her guards and all their weapons and all their shields) was cut down—what hope did commoners have?

But perhaps the worst feeling of all was her relief; something so foul it churned her stomach with guilt and shamed her deeply.

And yet it also sent spasms of giddiness—He was going to stay now!

Ordon was and forever would be his home.

Hyrule wasn't going to steal him away! He'd remain here safe and sound—no more scars, no more battles, no more monsters! No more blood!

And just like that the guilt hit her so hard in the gut her knees shook.

No, it's not like she wanted something like this to happen.

Never.

Yet it still felt like she hexed Queen Zelda or something.

Ilia felt so conflicted—that woman's death … so needless …so tragic … still …

Still …

Still … _**He**_ was alive.

That could have been him.

That could have been _**his**_ blood on that stage, his which splattered the streets as he was carried through the town, his which stained her sandals as she splashed behind him.

Given the very real possibility of two dreadful fates:

How much more horrible it could've been—if the blood that spoiled that green tunic had been his?

Having arrived at her destination, she swiftly climbed the ladder to Link's door.

"Link?" she called.

No answer.

Knocking louder than necessary to vent a little frustration, she called him again.

One of the first things he'd done after returning was add a lock to his door. It was hard getting used to it. His house had always been open before—an almost literal message of: _I'm available to all who need me. _Probably the reason he got tangled into the whole Twilight mess in the first place.

"Liiink?" she rapped the door again.

It was weird—being so mindful of his privacy.

Before a shout or a knock was more of a second thought if one considered it at all; people just let themselves in and it wasn't like Link ever scolded them for it.

Which was why it came as such a shock several months ago, when she and Talo stumbled in to find him at his table, head in hands—trembling.

And when he quietly told them to "get out," it just …

Her heart constricted at the memory—he'd bought himself a lock the next day.

Ilia frowned and knocked again, so hard the skin on her knuckles stung.

"Link I KNOW you're in there. Epona's out front." Whenever he left, he took the mare, and he'd been leaving more and more frequently.

"Look, Fado could probably use a hand with the goats if you're able. Herding them is much easier with Epona."

She tapped a foot impatiently.

"Link, you better not be drunk! Or I'll be mad. You know the children look up to you. They miss you. I …" She swallowed against the lump in the throat. "We all miss you."

"Uli wants you to come to their house for dinner. Alright? I'm going to tell her you're coming, alright?"

Again, no response.

He'd always been quiet, she tried to reassure herself. He was in there and he was alright and he was just … being quiet …that's all.

"Alright" she confirmed with the closed door "Rusl will come get you."

* * *

><p>Link was tempted to snap at her, but that would involve moving and right now …he was just so tired.<p>

As he lay in bed, and stared at the ceiling, he couldn't help but wonder: Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

A locked door meant stay out; seemed pretty simple.

He rubbed his forehead, feeling another migraine set in as his anger mounted yet again.

Why couldn't they understand? He didn't want to talk about it.

Trust Ilia to try and guilt him …

He glanced at the bottles stacking up on his night stand. It's not like he was proud of it.

Yes, he knew the children looked up to him.

Yes he was their mentor.

Yes, they all thought he was invincible.

He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face.

How was he supposed to deal with that adoration?

Especially when … well for goddesses' sake he was pathetic!

He was a knight for five seconds and in that span managed to adopt their incompetence.

Failure of that magnitude ... made him unworthy of the title 'Hero.'

He didn't want to see Talo and Colin's smiling faces—eager for more tales about the Twilight Realm.

Stories he couldn't share right now …not while the pain was still so …

They wouldn't see the connection between his quest and … _**her**_.

They were just boys hungry for adventure—wanting to hear about monsters and battle and valor.

They were too young to know how terrible it felt—all that bloodshed and terror.

After overcoming a literal Lord of Darkness, Link saved her, just for her to die anyway.

Not that the adult villagers were any better—kept expecting him to "shake it off" like he'd only been kicked by a goat and that he'd heal soon enough—no need to "bellyache" about it.

They just didn't understand.

She wasn't real to them. To them she never _**really**_ existed.

The light slipped in through his blinds, and left a pattern of lines on his hand.

That's what she was to them: a ray of light … pleasant but insubstantial …

She wasn't the sun to them … vital and life-giving …

Just a candle flame: a small force to repel darkness.

To them she'd simply faded as all candles do and soon enough another would be lighted in her stead.

She was just a name whose actions sometimes (distantly) affected them, and now she was less than that.

Now she was a name that would be in history books …and chiseled in stone.

And what could those things tell people?

Would it detail her resilience against Ganondorf?

Or how selflessly she aided Midna?

Or how her blue blood ran as red as any Hylian?

No …

And they certainly wouldn't tell about her tendency to rub one pointed ear when deep in thought.

Or how she'd flex and curl her fingers when talking to an advisor she disliked.

Or how wonderful her smile was …

He kept thinking about that one time (barely a week after their victory) when he came upon her unnoticed.

_She stood alone in a deserted corridor, and stared through one of the many windows. The sunlight highlighted her silhouette with a gentle glow._

And his breath caught at how lovely she looked.

"_The flowers are blooming" she remarked softly._

He'd blinked. Not quite sure how to respond.

As a man, he'd never put much store in flowers. Still, if that was today's topic for conversation, he'd stumble his way through.

He'd opened his mouth to reply about it being planting time in Ordon, when she continued.

"_Your favorite time of year … Mother."_

He'd felt a wave of empathy crash through him. He knew that flavor of pain.

The bitter taste of loneliness and longing—of memories that could have been, had fate been kinder.

He clenched a fist and glanced out the window, mouth slackening in shock.

Most of her garden had been decimated during the attack.

A few weak bushes grew in spite of the rubble.

Her fingers traced the panes of glass as she rested her forehead against the window.

Her shoulders slumped—and he knew then that sorrow and defeat were luxuries she'd only allow herself in private.

He quietly stole away, not sure how to comfort her—though determined to find a way.

After a rather humiliating talk with Telma—where she grilled him with prying questions, he concluded that flowers were a touchy subject with ladies.

Apparently there was a whole language devoted to them: certain ones meant this, certain colors meant that … Ridiculous …

And Telma kept demanding the lady's name …

He refused; saying only that it was for a dear friend who'd been through a lot.

'_A lady friend,'_ Telma stated frankly—knowing from his blush that it was so.

'_No, Link. You don't want to give her lilies. It's a sign of death!'_

For other flowers the color meant everything; and for all of Farore's Courage he wasn't brave enough to give her red roses.

In the end, he wound up talking to Agitha.

Who'd informed him matter-of-factly where the best flowers were.

Apparently the bugs told her so … and after a quest like his …one just stopped questioning rationalities.

If the bugs knew where they were, then by all means let the bugs lead him.

By evening he was back in the castle: dirty, sweaty, and more than a little nervous.

_He hesitantly approached her desk which teemed with official looking documents. _

"_F-for you Milady" he offered the potted plant shyly. _

_Her mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise and her fingers brushed against his as she accepted it_

"_Hydrangeas" she nodded, "How did you know? All of ours were trampled during the invasion."_

The truth was he hadn't.

The color simply reminded him of her dress.

"_They're beautiful" she murmured setting them on her desk—positioning them several times as she decided on the perfect place—uncaring of how they scattered bits of dirt all over her important papers._

For a moment she simply stared at them, then at him, taking several breaths as though unsure of how to express her gratitude.

Like she wasn't quite used to such exchanges.

Even he wasn't quite sure what he wanted from this—what exactly he expected.

And then she smiled … her first real smile for him; a shy, tremulous smile which lit up her face.

Her eyes, usually a cold indigo, warmed to violet and she seemed so fragile.

He knew he wanted that smile to last, to strengthen, and to be directed at him always.

Link shifted restlessly,_ I should've given you flowers everyday … _

Daffodils, roses, and hyacinths and all the other ones Telma had mentioned. He'd have had her write a list …

Turned that office into a conservatory—would've done it gladly if it had made her smile.

'_Link'_

The memory struck him so sudden and vivid—cool fingers in his hair, soft lips brushed against his ear whispering terrible words.

'_Don't be sad.'_

The gall to actually say that; she knew how hard Midna's return to the Twilight Realm had been on him.

And what … he was just supposed to accept Zelda's death?

Find some sort of comfort in their fate?

O our reincarnations will meet, so this isn't really goodbye—like he gave a damn about some other hero and princess.

She was trying to help you, his conscience nagged; she was trying to ease your terror.

Yeah … she wasted her final moments trying to grant HIM some comfort.

He almost wished she was angry with him, cursed his ineffectual skills, or had cried, or screamed, or-or something!

Expressed _**something**_ that was entirely for herself.

Instead, even then she placed his needs before hers; so unfair.

He tried to take a deep breath, but the world just seemed to be out of air.

He clenched the bed sheets and choked.

The heavy smell of flowers and blood …

'_Link … '_

He scrambled out of bed, knees hitting the floor hard as he barely reached the bucket in time—coughing violently as memories echoed in his ears.

"_You'll be a good boy, won't you Link? Strong and brave and make your Papa and I proud?" his mother asked, voice weak as the light faded from her eyes._

_**Yes Mother, I promise.**_

_A gentle smile turned her often mischievous lips, "Link I-I'll see you later …"_

_**Yes Midna, maybe … someday we'll cross paths again ...**_

_He can still hear the sharp sound of glass breaking. _

"_Link …"_

_Held her tight, his hands tangled in her hair, faced pressed into her neck._

"_I will … __**always**__ come back to…" _

Extracted vows, improbable promises, and … blatant lies ...

Amazing, how time after time, he could still feel newly devastated.

Being an orphan, you'd think he'd be used to people leaving him.

He laughed suddenly, the sound echoing harshly in his empty house.

* * *

><p>Uli frowned.<p>

She'd purposely made one of Link's favorites: coney stew with goat milk.

Hoped she might put some meat back on his bones, but he wasn't eating.

With a look of utter disinterest, he spooned up amounts before letting them fall back in the bowl with a splash.

His mouth set in a grim line, his dark brows furrowed—where had their lighthearted Link gone?

Link who helped mend baskets on his days off.

Who complimented her cooking and gently tussled with the boys when they were bored and mischievous?

Who rescued toys and laundry that floated down river?

Who chopped up firewood for Jaggle last winter when his back gave out (though Uli's certain it was just laziness)?

Gone; replaced with a sullen young man that Uli barely recognized.

One who grew thinner and gloomier each time she saw him.

Uli chewed carefully and swallowed—and pondered yet again about his dark transformation—wondering if it might be true.

Gossip spread like wildfire.

Even to a place as far removed as Ordon, nothing travels faster than a scandal.

But it's so hard to picture Link, _**their**_ Link, who'd never been terribly romantic (much to Ilia's dismay) as anyone's lover … let alone a queen's …

Seemed downright ridiculous …

But then she'd never thought Link could act like this either.

Sullenly sitting at her table—here only out of begrudging loyalty and nothing more—it stung.

It was clear he couldn't wait to leave—didn't even bother trying to be civil about it.

He deflected Rusl's attempts at conversation, blatantly ignored Colin, and did not want to hold the baby.

Waiting for a dismissal so he could trudge back to his house, lock his door and shut his windows; a real shame for spring had filled their hills with blossoms and the lovely floral scent did wonders for lonely hearts.

"Ten bites and then you can go" Uli announced.

Rusl blinked at her in surprise. That was a phrase back from when Link was a child; and would sometimes sulk at meal times when Fado and Ilia had already finished and were out playing.

No sooner had the words left her mouth; Link wolfed down his stew and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.

Setting the bowl hard on the table, he abruptly stood and left—the door rattling as it slammed behind him.

Uli blinked; it was quite possibly the rudest Link had ever acted in the entirety of his life.

And yet she couldn't help feeling relieved.

Any emotion, even anger, was so much better than shock.

Back when he and Ilia had returned, he'd spent the whole day sitting against a tree—dressed in a borrowed tunic and trousers that didn't fit him.

She'd asked what'd happened to his lush green outfit.

Before he'd set off for the castle, Uli commented on how handsome he looked. How he was sure to steal all the girls' hearts.

He'd flushed to the tips of his ears and she'd pinched his cheek and laughed.

Ilia told her he'd left it behind at the castle.

"I cleaned it, you know?" Ilia had murmured. "As best I could, but he didn't want it…I cleaned it though … the least I could" she swallowed "I ..."

For the next week he'd sat against the tree, ignored everyone who came to see him, and stared at his hands like they were enemies. Only leaving for his house long after the sun set.

Then restlessness had set in and he was in and out of the village with such frequency that he was exhausting Epona … as well as himself …

So much time spent alone … cooped up in his house brooding … or riding solitary in the wilderness …

Shock and inaction had given way to anger; anger would eventually burn itself out.

She was worried about the sadness that would follow.

And knew it had to for peace and acceptance to settle in his soul.

Uli sighed, before giving Colin a gentle smile.

Her poor son was clearly upset by his idol's cold treatment.

Still, painful as it was, it'd be good for Colin to see that even Link was just a man.

He made mistakes.

He had feelings.

He had flaws.

* * *

><p>Link growled, as he crumpled up another piece of parchment.<p>

He sat at his desk, knee bouncing in agitation.

He chewed on his right thumb nail as he wrote down more names and places—thinking and listing and consulting his maps of Hyrule—crossing off and circling more places.

That man could be any where by now: could very well be across the deserts, over the mountains, hiding in a cavern.

Damn.

If he could catch a decent scent, he'd track him down in wolf form.

The stone in his desk drawer made it very alluring. Midna had offered it to him before her departure—giggling that perhaps another princess could scratch his tummy now.

His time spent as a wolf had its share of consequences: rarer meat, brisk runs in the early mornings, desire to hunt …

He could already envision himself, paws pounding the ground, leaping as he snapped his powerful jaws.

The satisfying crunch of bone and sinew and victory …

His lips twitched in a predatory smile …

That man … that slayer …

Except, he frowned, that no one knew him.

Who he was or where he came from or why he did it!

None of his contacts held the slightest clue.

Zelda had plenty of enemies: bitter nobles, disgruntled traders, power-hungry free agents … But none were so bold as to plot this.

Where could he be? It was as if the ground had just swallowed him up!

And no one wanted to aid him!

'_Brother, you should rest yourself.'_

'_Link, go sleep. Get better yeah?'_

'_Link, wouldn't it be best if you take a respite? There are books which deal with…coping.'_

He had the rest of forever to 'get better.'

He wanted to 'get revenge' NOW.

He paced back and forth.

He kept lapsing between inactivity and frenzy. Right now he was itching for a fight. He pulled his blade from its sheath, fingers tracing the hilt.

It was no Master Sword.

And clearly hadn't been good enough to save Zelda.

But it was more than a match for moblins.

* * *

><p>Colin swung his legs back and forth from his perch in the tree—watching Link tear out on Epona away from the village … again. Ilia would be angry; she'd started stationing Epona at her house. So that Link would have to walk through town to get her.<p>

So someone could try to stop him.

No one did.

He had … this look now … a scary one; the one those monsters saw when he cut them down.

And of course Colin felt bad. His father told him how Link lost a dear friend and that it hurt him very deeply—that it would take Link a while to heal.

But it just seemed absurd, Link _**always**_ healed fast.

He'd broken bones on rowdy jobs at the ranch.

Survived all sorts of adventures, giant spiders and everything!

Seen many scary and dangerous things and overcame them easily.

Why was this so different?

How dear could a friend Link had known for so short a time, hold so much power over him?

His parents kept repeating that Link was sad.

But he wasn't.

Colin knew how it felt to be sad. To be left out. Made fun of.

Link was angry and he was angry all the time.

And nothing Colin did or said or made for him lessened it.

It seemed like the times Link _**was**_ home, he just sat there with all of the lights off and the windows closed.

It made him think that Link was pretending to not exist.

Which hurt … Colin thought Ordon was a great place to exist for.

* * *

><p>Rusl watched Link stagger into town, dirty and with a limp.<p>

Goddesses, he worried about him.

And he supposed that he along with the rest of Hyrule wondered what exactly those two had.

He didn't begrudge Link his anger over their sovereign's murder.

Couldn't even bring himself to disapprove if what the gossip mongers said proved true.

He was a brave young man who deserved happiness.

Still, if it was hard to reconcile Link "the quiet Goat Herder" with Link "the Valiant Warrior." It was nearly impossible to even THINK about Link "the Ardent Lover."

Why his childhood-crush on Ilia never resulted in anything beyond chaste affection and attention!

So it's hard to consider Link being passionate, but then Rusl thought of the way Link _**looked**_ at the Queen.

And despite knowing Link almost his whole life, he honestly can't say whether the boy would have acted on his impulses.

He remembered the one time he saw them together … and even _**he**_ can't help but wonder.

Queen Zelda …

He felt a pang of pity; he'd made trips to the castle before for Ordon.

She always seemed like a rather solemn young woman with large haunting eyes: fair and beautiful and cold.

He'd never really dwelled on it—perhaps dismissed it as an aristocratic staple—they seemed a rather serious lot altogether; never thought that her air was something as simple as unhappiness.

And then he'd attended the first ball celebrating Hyrule's freedom from the tyrannical Zant.

It'd been near the end of the evening where almost everyone was drunk or well on their way to becoming so.

Link, given his heroism during the invasion, was honored with being the Queen's escort.

One look at them was enough to see how young they were—barely adults and thrust into roles of high responsibility.

One look also revealed that they'd had far too much to drink.

Endless toasts of "To the Queen's Health!" or alternately "To the Hero's Valor" among the social elite had left the two sloshed.

Telma would've been proud of Zelda who, besides a red face, kept her balance very well (quite a feat considering her restrictive clothing and high heeled shoes).

She'd have been even prouder of Link, who had no tolerance at all, but kept enough sense not to move too suddenly or speak too loudly.

What concerned Rusl was their combined behavior: he moved close to her, leaned in near her ear, and whispered something out of the corner of his mouth.

She held a hand to her mouth and laughed lightly. She smiled too much, lips parted and eyes sparkling; like he was the cleverest man in all of Hyrule.

Rusl was young once—he knew what that look did to young men.

And then she encouraged him even more boldly.

Both of her hands came to rest on his arm, and lightly squeezed him to her.

It was so girlish and youthful an action (so like Ilia)—it almost seemed out of place for their grave ruler.

Rusl had hesitated then. Happiness … it looked nice on them.

Queen Zelda, looked so cheerful, face flushed no doubt from the strong wine and attentive company.

Link, looked fiercely pleased with himself, and more than a little tipsy; which seemed to make him bolder with every minute.

Rusl finally walked over when Link began stroking her arm, and Zelda began leaning into him.

Their eyes were locked on one another: like no one else in the ballroom existed.

He'd clapped a firm hand on Link's shoulder and insisted that they ought to turn in—the boy gave him a flat look of '_tuck yourself in, I'm busy.'_

Again Rusl tried to discreetly pull Link away, using his larger stature to his advantage.

But alcohol had shortened Link's fuse and he quickly became angry (which was yet another surprise for Rusl—as Link was usually so docile).

With one hand Link shoved the larger man away, which made Rusl gape in awe.

Link was strong—stronger than he remembered—or perhaps Link had always pulled his punches and sword swings.

"I'm trying to save you from a flogging boy" he'd gritted lowly through his teeth.

The boy looked at him dubiously.

Thankfully a royal guard joined—equally concerned about the disintegrating propriety.

Though, his efforts were focused on the young queen, who only glared at him in response.

The guard ran an agitated hand through his graying hair, as he insisted that she too turn in. That if she'd bid the gentlemen goodnight, he'd escort her to her bed chambers and then return to give a closing speech.

To which Link interrupted that he ought to just give the speech—escorting her was unnecessary as Link knew the way just fine.

That part of his statement was probably where the whole "lover scandal" started.

A shame, because the rest of the sentiment was that he learned it back when he had four legs.

So…it was clearly the alcohol talking.

* * *

><p>Grim satisfaction brimmed in Link as he noticed the dirt and dark blood wedged deep beneath his fingernails.<p>

The rogue moblins were dealt with … the village they were terrorizing was now safe.

That would please her.

He wiped a hand across his sweaty brow; He was mending a broken fence post at the ranch; more to get everyone off his back then out of concern for losing goats.

A crunch behind him made his eyes narrow and he gripped the mallet tighter.

"Link my boy"

He glanced over his shoulder, to where Mayor Bo stood awkwardly as he turned a letter over in his hands.

"Good afternoon, there's…well apparently royal postmen have been leaving these at your door."

Link stared at him, silently willing him to leave already.

"But ah, something happened and they felt it best that _**I**_ deliver it to you."

Yeah, that _**something**_ was Link yelling at them to get off his property.

And that if they weren't gone in three beats he was going to use his hookshot to shove those summons down their throats.

"Link" he offered the envelope.

The young man took it and then released his hold—letting it drop.

Mayor Bo stammered a hasty farewell and departed.

In Link's humble opinion, seeing the envelope resting in dirt was rather satisfying.

They'd been harassing him for weeks.

Stupid messengers—though Link supposed he shared part of the blame.

He used to receive them quite hospitably back when they brought him tidings of value.

_**This**_, however, was a royal summons with a seal he didn't recognize; on different paper with a foreign hand penning those looping words.

It made all the difference.

* * *

><p>Link sighed wearily as he leaned against a tree—staring at all the wildflowers that had shot up during the season.<p>

He was learning to ignore the queasiness.

He had too …

She liked flowers and if he was ever going to visit her …

He pinched the bridge of his nose …

If he DID go visit, it would smother that small spark of hope that kept waiting for her to send for him.

Colin and Talo were brandishing sticks at one another—playing Moblin and Knight.

Noisy and destructive and they were trampling all over the flora …

A hard swing knocked one flower—its blossom exploded from the sudden impact.

Both boys squeaked when Link caught them—his grip harsh enough to send a shock through their small arms.

"Go play in the fields" he ordered them gruffly.

They immediately did as told, practically scrambled to get away. Their fearful faces should've given him guilt … and yet …

All he could feel was that he hadn't moved fast enough.

He ran a hand through his hair—irritated with himself.

It was stupid to feel this upset over a flower.

He sighed as he watched the wind scatter the violet petals across the ground—as it slowly blew them away to wherever delicate, beautiful things disappeared.

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><p>Read and Review Please! : D<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Legend of Zelda.

AN: Hey there! Thank you sooo much for your reviews. I appreciate each and every one. Why just today, I was re-reading through them, and I got pumped up! My motivation turned to inspiration and here I am! Sooo I'm still alive :D and hopefully you're still interested in this story!

Chapter 6

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><p>Shad swallowed nervously as he shook out yet another pebble from his shoe. He and the outdoors did not mix well; enemies since his childhood really. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and gave a half-hearted glare to the package that had brought him to Ordon. It was long, narrow, heavy, and awkward to hold—but it was his burden and he'd see it through to the villagers were somewhat helpful. Initially they hadn't trusted him and kept giving vague responses on where Link might be.<p>

He could be fishing. He could be watching the children. He could be herding the goats. He could be riding Epona. He could be at Faron Springs. Or perhaps with Ilia or Uli or whoever else lived in the village. Perhaps he wasn't even _**IN**_ Ordon at the time.

Finally his patience ran out and he'd tersely asked, "Where the devil is Rusl?"

At which point, Uli, who'd been watching him from a distance, asked how he knew her husband.

And after a rather long explanation, the villagers warmed up to him. So he lived in Castle Town. Was it nice there? How terrible was the invasion? Was he scared? Had he ever seen anyone as brave as their Link? What was with the inflated prices of fabric lately? How huge _**was**_ the castle in Castle Town? What does a scholar actually do?

By the time they were through, the sun was setting and everyone was off to their hearths to fix a meal.

He'd been offered supper from several residences, but he insisted on meeting with Link.

They bade him to follow the dirt road onward to the outer skirts of the village.

Despite being assured that THIS was the correct route to Link's home. His unease mounted as he wandered down the well-worn path. Link certainly lived far away from his neighbors.

It wasn't that Shad had a terrible sense of direction—during the invasion he'd poured over countless maps to help the resistance strategize.

So he understood the layout of cities, but…he was more confident with pavement than dirt-paths. That and the fact that EVERY tree and bush looked identical had him wondering if he was walking in circles …and the sun was going down.

He really ought to have researched more about Ordon. It wouldn't have hurt to take a teeny break from the Oocca, to include a little reading on neighboring provinces.

Sure he knew Link was a Goat Herder. And that goat-herding was affiliated with rural land like Ordon.

Still … he supposed being raised in a city he was naïve to quaint country life.

The people's dress was more than a bit outdated and all of the children were barefoot. Not that he was a snob by any means, but it did make him feel even more like an outsider.

The little ones (boys and girls alike) had raced around with sticks, sling shots, and roughly hewn toys rather than books, practice foils, and porcelain dolls.

From his observations; after their chores were finished, these children were encouraged to entertain themselves with little to no adult interaction. Scrapes and bruises and clashes of tempers would "toughen" them.

And while independence WAS a valuable trait, Shad couldn't help but feel that a little more guidance and gentility would serve them well.

He knew Link was fond of them and wanted them to visit Castle Town, but … honestly their lack of decorum would have them thrown out in a matter of hours.

He supposed the villagers would argue that lavishing too much attention on children made them self-entitled but …

Shad sighed, his beloved father (Goddesses rest his soul) had certainly doted on him in time and trinkets.

His father had been delighted when Shad began reading at the tender age of three. Being naturally obedient and even-tempered he'd learned his manners quickly and Father took him everywhere—especially the library.

He supposed some would argue that it was a detriment that he was encouraged to be "soft." His intellect wasn't much of a shield for bulbin arrows.

He even supposed that in some respects they were right.

Yet he already knew that someday in the future (when fatherhood was upon him) he'd aspire to be as loving and devoted as his father was to him. Go ahead and call him weak-hearted—his children were going to know how adored they were … and by the Goddesses they were going to use proper utensils when they ate.

He shuddered at the memory of Tilo, or was it Talo?, eating a slice of deku-nut pie…with his fingers.

He sighed in relief as what could only be Link's home came into view. And now phrases like "You'll need to use the ladder to knock" made sense.

Only Link would live in such a precarious habitat. No wonder the tasks of his adventure never fazed him—why just going home was a battle.

"Ashei would probably like it" he muttered "They just never seem to notice how often exciting and impractical go running hand in hand."Shad struggled to balance the long narrow package as he climbed. "Adventurers" he grumbled.

* * *

><p>Link stirred his stew with increasing disinterest. The potatoes were overdone and the broth was runny, still <em><strong>nothing<strong>_ tasted all that great lately—so what did it really matter?

He was about to ladle some into a bowl when there was a rapid series of knocks to his door.

"Link, are you there? It's…well…it's Shad. Um, I don't wish to be rude but if you ARE present please open the door _**quick**_—I'm suffering a bit of vertigo."

Link sped over to the door and threw it open—of all the possible visitors (and he'd had quite a few) he had not expected this one.

Shad stumbled past the threshold on his hands and knees, dragging a package with him.

Link raised an eyebrow; honestly, for someone so interested in sky beings, Shad's aversion to heights was going to make things … difficult in the long run.

"Interesting architecture" Shad panted from the floor "First line of defense I suppose?"

Link half expected a "Hurry up, yeah?" But a quick look out on his porch revealed no one else.

"You came alone?" Link couldn't quite keep his incredulity out of his tone.

"I did" the scholar bit back indignantly as he pulled himself to his feet. "I _**can**_ dodge a bukoblin arrow when my life depends on it."

"So there are still a few out there?"

"Stragglers I think."

The blond man's eyes narrowed as if making a note of it before asking, "Where's Ashei?"

"Oh yes … she was assigned an important mission. One only she was considered for. I-I volunteered but they said they had better use for me." The scholar frowned for a moment and fell silent.

"Shad. Why _**are**_ you here?"

The scholar sighed, pulling his spectacles off and cleaning them with a handkerchief, "I'm to inform you that our new ruler requests an audience with you."

Link scoffed.

"Yes" Shad replied steadily "It's not really a request. It's a command."

"So you were ordered here?"

"Yes and no. They thought it best that someone you know speak with you. And I…well I didn't trust one of his men to not drop this" he held the package out for Link to accept.

Link was surprised at the weight and found himself proud of Shad. Muscle wasn't the scholar's strong suit, but he'd managed to tote it here all the same.

Link snapped the cord with a kitchen knife and opened the lid.

Inside rested a mighty blade—well crafted steel with a fine leather wrapped handle. Some would say it was a touch simple—there was little decoration and no jewels.

He could tell Shad was a bit letdown—obviously he'd expected a wall-decoration of a weapon.

Link however was impressed—this sword was meant to be used. Shame he'd have to return it, to spite his new ruler if nothing else.

"And what is this? Some misguided appeal to secure my allegiance?"

"No" Shad replied solemnly "You…you were supposed to be presented this…at-at the ball …had it occurred. Her cousin-his … highness … said he left a note of hers inside. Some sort of speech she was planning."

True enough at the bottom of the box there was a scrap of parchment.

Link instantly recognized her handwriting—though it was a good deal less formal than the letters she'd penned him.

There were scratched-out lines and scribbles and inkblots as well as words and critiques written here and there across the top.

It seemed after several failed attempts, starting with "To our dear Hero," "To our heroic defender," "To Link of Ordon" she settled for"

_To our fearless Hero;_

_Forged in fire and intended for valor;_

_May its steel prove as strong and true as its wielder?_

He'd heard her sing his praises before at other ceremonies; with her head held high and words carefully enunciated and rehearsed.

And while he never doubted her sincerity, there was something endearing about a rough draft. Especially as she'd had several instances of distraction—doodles lined the margins.

In spite of the ache in his chest, Link smiled as he traced a hydrangea with his finger.

"So if you want to write a note or perhaps I could just tell them-"

"No … I'll go to the castle to settle all this and …" Link stared out the window into a dark sky. "I need to visit her."

"Very well, we'll head out first thing in the morning after-"

"No we should leave now. I'll pin a note to my door so no one will worry."

"…_**Right**_ now?"

"Let me just pack a few things and we'll be on our way" even as he said it he was already heading over to where he kept his supply of red potion (Just in case a few bukolbins got lucky).

Shad's response sounded suspiciously like "Oh good, now I'll get to fight that ladder in the dark."

* * *

><p>It was with the deepest feelings of reluctance that Link found himself in the throne room before the new ruler of Hyrule.<p>

Shad had insisted on it-that if he didn't, it would somehow end up being Shad's fault. The scholar then gave a tirade about propriety and that after staggering around through Faron Woods and then entertaining Beth, Colin, and Talo it was the LEAST Link could do.

Link agreed.

And so he now stood facing Duke Zaron: cousin to Zelda through her mother's side and Heir Apparently?Or something or other, whatever to the throne of Hyrule. Honestly, it was like nobles took joy in making things unbearably complex. Or perhaps there was something prestigious in having really long titles.

Her cousin. And yet, Link could scarcely trace a feature back to her.

Zaron was at least ten years his senior, and twice as wide. Not fat per se, but thick—stocky. And if he was taller than Zelda it was by an inch.

His dark green eyes were narrow and calculating and his hair was a light shade of blond. With a long sharp nose and a wide mouth, he reminded Link of a lizalfos. Thankfully, Link masked his snicker as a cough.

The only things he found similar to his queen was the point of the man's chin and the angle of his eyebrows.

Perhaps his unflattering depiction was the result of misplaced frustration and malice … or perhaps it was how comfortable the man looked in the seat of his dead cousin.

The man stood, adjusted his robes, and moved down the steps to greet him. To any other, it would seem an ordinary dismissible occurrence.

Link felt his blood boil with contempt; Duke Zaron was a skilled fighter. His build and choice of wardrobe simply hid it from untrained eyes.

_Where were you when Zant attacked?_

"So I take it you received your sword?"

Link nodded.

"Good. Good. I" the man began, clasped his hands behind his back and then tried again "I-"

Link pursed his lips. Oh no. Here it came.

"I am so sorry. I …I never knew. She wasn't the most-I mean that-well Zelda …"

Link's jaw tightened. _Just say it_, he willed. _Say it so we can be done with it already._

"She was very private. About all things. Especially of _**that**_ nature. So what I mean to say is-and I don't mean to be …insensitive or-or-I" he cleared his throat uncomfortably "I didn't know about _**you**_."

Yup. There it was. Officially, _**everyone**_ in Hyrule was convinced they were lovers. Yes, apparently offering a dying woman some comfort equates to rampant love affair.

Still, Link would admit he'd been given more leeway in countless situations. From purchasing materials "it's on the house, good Sir" to free meals at taverns "Good to see you out and about Sir. It's what she'd want."

Given his … reaction to her death and the … intimacy they shared in her final moments tongues had gone wagging: each rumor more ridiculous and scandalous than the last.

Everyone made assumptions about the two of them. He gave up trying to correct these rumors, let them think whatever they like.

"She was, well, a-a very somber woman" the duke murmured.

Link blinked at him incredulous, before his lips quirked in a condescending smile.

"Yes," he scoffed "she only had the weight of an entire nation on her shoulders."

The blatant '_where the hell were you during the Twilight Invasion_?' blared in that statement.

The duke fidgeted under the intense stare, "I-I do regret that I was not able to provide more aid during that … regrettable … Well it was difficult to travel what with that barrier and all those horrible creatures roaming about."

"_**I know.**_"

There were several snorts of amusement from the surrounding guards.

Duke Zaron frowned at them before announcing, "There's something I want you to have, if you'll follow me."

* * *

><p>Link ran a hand across the marble top of Zelda's vanity. He enjoyed picturing her here pampering herself.<p>

For some reason or other Duke Zaron had brought him here and Link wasn't going to let the opportunity pass him by.

He continued on, letting his hands wander across her belongings. If the guard accompanying them found his actions inappropriate he remained quiet.

At one point he found himself staring pointedly at the soldier, daring him to comment. Only he didn't, the older man just stared back at him. He sighed once, ran a hand through his short beard and readjusted the wedding band on his left hand.

Ah but of course, Link's fabricated reputation proceeded him.

Fine, let them think it was nostalgia, what he was really after was her scent. What better place to pinpoint it than here? Naturally her bedroom smelled of her, if a bit stale.

He needed to commit it to memory; this smell would be on her killer.

He smiled; the beast inside him looked forward to the hunt, the man inside him looked forward to vengeance.

Still it made him uncomfortable, thinking such gruesome things here.

Zelda's room was so pristine. Light colored silks, porcelain figurines, and glass perfume bottles … such a fragile little world.

Blood would never wash out of a place like this …

"_Link … don't be sad …"_

His stomach churned and he grasped her bedpost for support. For several moments he stared ahead, trying to regain his composure.

And then he noticed it; there hanging on her wardrobe was a green gown. And he realized with another sharp pang that everything in here was exactly as she'd left it that day.

What she would've worn to the ball … it was probably beautiful. It was hard to judge such things—right now it was simply a flat garment—and as any male would attest to, dresses only looked appealing on female figures.

Ilia would know more about it all.

Still, daft as Link was in fashion, he knew it was the same shade of green as his hero's garb. So she'd planned to match him at the ball.

He ran a hand over the rich fabric and closed his eyes, trying to imagine what could've been:

She'd have arrived in all her splendor and looped her arm in his; performed a few more flowery speeches that would've been wasted on her inebriated subjects.

Then she'd have presented him with a fine sword, he'd have kissed her dainty hand. And they'd have spent the night downing champagne and dancing until they were too dizzy to stay upright.

The fine sword strapped to his back felt heavy. He could almost curse her for her kindness, which seemed so much like cruelty now; every new detail gutted him inside.

Duke Zaron cleared his throat, "Being as how you were her … I would like you to have this to remember her."

Zaron opened the jewelry box on her dresser and presented him with a jeweled pendent.

Link stoically accepted it—he'd never seen Zelda without it—it connected the front portion of her shoulder armor.

"So … you summoned me here to for a souvenir?" Like he needed this to remember her _**or**_ their adventure—he had more than enough scars thank you very much.

The man twitched at the blatant disrespect, "No. I offer you this as a token of my condolences. I brought you to the castle on a matter of business. It is customary for all knights to swear allegiance to their new leader. Now I have an opening tomorrow in the early morning where you can do so. At which point I will send you with Taron who will outfit you-"

"No."

"I was unaware that you were previously engaged. Then perhaps-"

"No." There several bows mounted on her wall along with ornate quivers—each full of arrows.

"You are a knight of Hyrule and you are duty-bound to protect it."

"I am." He wondered idly if she'd fletched all those arrows herself.

"I will soon be King of these lands" Zaron looked at him expectantly.

"Hmm." Such a breakable room full of glass figurines … and yet she had weapons on her wall.

"If you were not the Hero of Twilight, I would take great offense" he sniffed.

"My allegiance is to Hyrule. My fealty is…_**was**_ to Zelda. And I can't help but notice how little she meant to you."

For a moment the man looked downright shocked, "How _**dare**_ you speak to me so? If it weren't for Zelda's memory, I'd have you punished for such insolence."

Blue eyes flashed, "Punish me, praise me, or pester me with all the letters you want. You didn't take a stand against Ganondorf. You will not have my loyalty."

There was a heavy beat of silence and then, "She aided you in battle. Of course she did."

He'd followed Link's gaze to the bows on her wall.

"Yes, she was always an excellent archer. Goddesses, she _**did**_ look smug at that first ball. I should've guessed."

Link glanced at him sharply.

There was a strong emotion burning in the man's eyes. There was bitterness, fondness, and distaste all meshed together. As well as … Link's eyes widened in surprise … regret.

"She was always a very private person" Zaron murmured softly. "Sometimes I wonder if I ever knew her at all."

* * *

><p>In honor of the late queen a large portrait had been made. It was a masterpiece; every stroke was painstakingly planned and carefully executed.<p>

Every curve and line of her fair form was beautifully recreated. Perhaps that was the reason Link loathed it. The painter had captured her too well.

Especially her eyes … her sad blue eyes which turned her smile melancholy. It made her seem haunting and tragic.

After several days of wandering listlessly around Castle Town, Link had worked up his nerve.

Now was the moment of truth. He gripped the bouquet tightly as he descended into the crypt; which turned out to be surprisingly difficult to navigate—there were many Zeldas down here and he had to squint at the dates to keep them all straight.

When he'd passed the 23rd Zelda, he was more than a little frustrated.

Finally after four rights and then an abrupt left, he found the shrine erected for their latest queen.

Zelda …

He released a long, slow breath.

She was gone …

She was really gone …

And all she'd left behind was a family name and a cursed one at that—if the other inscriptions were anything to go by. He set his roses down amongst a mountain of flowers.

He took a seat on the cold floor, resting his back against her stone coffin. He pulled her pendent from his pocket. He'd tied a leather cord around it—intended to wrap her flowers with it but …

He sighed and slipped it over his head, letting it rest against his chest while memories echoed around him.

"_Link… Chosen Hero! Lend us the last of your power!"_

"That was what you asked of me and in spite of what seemed like certain doom, I succeeded."

He sighed, "I asked you to stay. Why didn't you?"

He remained there for a long while, fingers tracing what her scribes had to say of her. It was only when a servant came down to relight the torches that he left.

* * *

><p>When a summons arrived for him at Telma's Bar, he'd been content to ignore it. When breakfast and then lunch passed Telma warned him that if he didn't stop dragging his feet, she'd march him up there by his ear.<p>

She did. And boy was his ear sore. Again he resisted the urge to rub it, and tried to focus on his new ruler.

"A month is all I ask, then I will give you an honorable discharge and you're free to go. I've been reflecting on it. Yours…is a truly unique situation."

Link raised an eyebrow.

"It is. I do not deny that my cousin and I were not particularly … affectionate. I daresay Zelda was a difficult person to be close to. You can ask any relative of ours and they would confirm it."

"She was a benevolent ruler" Link stated quietly. "She lived for her people."

"Indeed" the Duke hastily agreed "The best of rulers but a rather indifferent kinsman. Though make no mistake, I hold her in the highest regard; which is precisely why I'm willing to be so lenient with _**you**_."

"She…" Zaron cleared his throat and continued "clearly felt a good deal of…fondness for you. She seemed to take delight in planning any and all things that concerned you."

At Link's baffled expression he explained, "It seems my cousin ordered your armor and uniform herself. She had your itinerary planned for the swiftest of advancements. I would continue her work but … as we both know your allegiance does not lie with me."

Well, Link certainly couldn't argue with that.

"After your month of service, I'll see to it that you receive half of your pension. It is still a substantial sum and one you could live off quite well in such a place as Ordona Province."

Even though Link _**knew**_ the man was trying to be kind to him. Zaron couldn't quite mask the disdain he felt for this lowly goat herder.

Link's eyes narrowed, "I see, though it seemed to me that Zelda was more concerned with my title than my wage."

"Well, you must admit the legitimacy of your knighthood is more than questionable" Zaron drawled.

_No more than your reign_, Link thought sourly.

"Months of no response. Hostility to my messengers. Even aggression to me."

"My queen didn't send for me" Link quipped.

Zaron's good humor failed then and with a harshness that startled the surrounding guards he hissed, "Your queen is dead."

A flash of intuition struck and suddenly Link understood. Duke Zaron envied Zelda; the female heir to the throne, beloved and unquestioned and powerful—whose benevolence ensured the devotion of her people. He'd never escape her shadow.

But then his frame shook and he collapsed onto his throne. He ran a fretful hand through his hair.

He admired her also. Respected her, even perhaps, against his own will. And … he wanted that reciprocated.

And was doomed to never receive it … instead she had bestowed her gratitude and praise to … this lowly goatherder… and it just _**tore**_ him apart.

At length, the man murmured, "I think you exist to torment our bloodline. And I find your lack of propriety unsettling."

"I find your expression of grief even more so" Link replied just as candidly "I can't tell if you loved or hated Zelda."

The man struggled to regain his composure as the guards hesitantly approached the two.

"What is it that you want Link?" he asked miserably.

"Sir Link" the young man corrected. "It's what she wanted for me."

Duke Zaron sighed with such anguish; one would think he was sentencing _**himself**_ to the gallows.

"Then you'll have to serve one year."

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><p>Read and Review Please : D<p> 


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